“Lis, stop. Please. Let’s just take a deep breath.”
But she was far from done. “And I’m sorry, but I’m calling bullshit on your little give-me-another-baby excuse when it comes to your company. You signed over our entire life in the divorce in exchange for my half of your company.” She marched forward and stabbed a finger in my direction. “Half that I never wanted! I fucking hate that company. I swear to God it’s like the other woman in our relationship. I don’t want your fucking money.” Another step toward me. “I don’t want any-fucking-thing that comes from that company or your precious little Rubicon.” Her chest heaved when she finished. She kept her gaze locked on me as she glared expectantly.
Oh, I had a response. But she wasn’t going to like it any more than I was going to like telling it.
“Three hundred and seventy-two”—I paused, bending at the waist before finishing—“thousand dollars.”
“What?”
“That’s how much debt Leblanc Industries was in the day our divorce was finalized.”
She gaped and repeated, “What?”
“You think I was eager to saddle you with half of that debt? Fuck that! I had nothing, Lis. But the woman I loved walked away with a house. Furniture to sit on. A bed to sleep in. A piece-of-shit car, but at least she had wheels. It wasn’t much. But it was all I could give you.”
Her face contorted murderously as she yelled, “Stop being such a goddamn martyr!”
I closed the distance between us in one long stride, catching her just as she crumbled.
Crawling even closer into my chest, she cried, “I hate you so much.”
“I know,” I breathed, kissing her temple.
“I spent two years of my life without you because you couldn’t figure out how to open your fucking mouth and talk to me.”
I hugged her as though I could absorb her pain. “I know. But I’m talking now.”
“I don’t wanna talk now.” She whined. “I wanted to talk two years ago. I wanted you to stop me before I ever got to the door.”
“I know. And I’m sorry.” I kissed every inch of her face and hair that I could reach, her body shaking in my arms, the tiny remnant of my heart shattering all over again.
My chest was tight, the ache lingering. I’d always been confused by the way our marriage had ended. However, hearing Roman’s side of it definitely took some of the sting out. Even if I still couldn’t completely wrap my mind around it.
I didn’t know what all of it meant for us—as far as a future went.
To use Roman’s words, my head was definitely not “straight” about what was happening with us.
But I knew with my whole heart that Roman still loved me.
And I knew with my entire being that I’d always loved him.
He was a bossy, suit-wearing, Range-Rover-driving, rich guy I barely recognized. But beneath it all was still my smart, funny, and gentle husband. So I didn’t fight as he picked me up off my feet and carried me up the stairs to our bedroom, whispering a million apologies into my hair as we went.
He was still in jeans as he settled us both on the bed, and he wasted no time curling me into his chest. He combed his fingers through my hair until I relaxed on top of him. As I listened to the steady beat of his heart pounding out my favorite lullaby, my tears eventually stopped.
Then, in a bed we had bought together.
A bed where we’d spent countless nights laughing and talking about our days.
A bed where he’d made love to me with his hands, his mouth, and his body.
A bed where our children had been conceived.
A bed where he’d held me after we’d lost them.
A bed where he’d brought me breakfast and flowers every single Mother’s Day.
A bed I’d fought the urge to burn on a near daily basis after we’d divorced.
A bed I realized I never wanted him to leave.
I finally got my head straight.
As I lifted my eyes, he looked down to meet my gaze.
“So, um…I guess you can keep the house key. Even though you stole it.”
He grinned, and it lit his entire face, his perfect lips to his mischievous eyes.
I tipped my chin up, silently asking for a kiss—an offer he did not decline.
It was short but no less meaningful, and it caused a peace I hadn’t felt in years to wash over me.
But a tinge of worry still lingered in the back of my mind.
“This isn’t over. You know that, right? It’s gonna take time to rebuild,” I informed him just before he kissed me again.
With our lips still connected, he rolled us so we were on our sides, sharing a pillow. “Patience isn’t my strong suit, Lis,” he grunted, sliding a hand over my ass.
“Then you’re gonna have to figure it out, because things happened, and they cut us both deep. It’s gonna take time to heal.” I brushed the hair off his forehead. “Now, I’m all for trying to do that healing together, but in order to do that, you’re gonna have to find the strength to keep whatever twenty-pound diamond you’ve probably already bought tucked in your pocket.”